The Invisible Preachers
by Strangely Coloured Dog
Summary: ---This story is being rewritten--- With that in mind, this is a post-game fic that is (hopefully) unlike any other you will read. The plot's too complex to really summarize here. More details inside.
1. The Missing Wing

_The Opening Statement: _This story is being completely rewritten. I don't just mean that I'm going through what I already have and fixing some of the mistakes, I mean I'm starting from scratch. There was too much room for improvement in the old version. It wasn't worth the pain of trying to fix what was already written. Believe me, I tried. For some reason, people actually appreciated that story, which wasn't something that I was expecting, so it took a long time to realize that I wasn't giving those people my best effort. So, think of the old story as the first draft. Yes, the plot of this one is similar, but not identical, and when it comes to the characters and details, I don't even think there's any comparison.

The old story was inconsistent, and it fell into the biggest trap I set when writing these sorts of fantasy epics, namely, the backgrounds stories that people don't see were more vivid than the actual story itself. In other words, the chapters were short and forced, there was no real thought put into them, and I wasn't happy with them. My achievable goal with this story is to write a piece of FF7 fanfiction unlike any other, and my unachievable goal is to write the best piece of FF7 fanfiction there is. (Don't worry, I haven't, but that doesn't mean I won't try...)

With all that said, be prepared for the bigger and better version! More surreal dream sequences! More revealing flashbacks! More lyrics/poetry inserted into the story at vaguely inappropriate times! More painful angst alongside what I hope are heartwarming moments! More misplaced jokes! Oh God, I sound like a bad radio commercial for a used car place...

_Sort of a Disclaimer: _Though this story is rated PG13, and will stay that way, I should warn you that it really tiptoes the line between PG13 and R. Also, the events of Advent Children and any other prequel/sequel that is in the works are not taken into consideration. This is based off the original game only.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

**The Other Wing**

_"Unnatural vices are fathered by our heroism"_

–T.S. Eliot, _Gerontion _

****

**Midgar, The Meteor Crisis**

They had front rows seats to watch the end of the world. The eight people who had risen to the status of heroes in the eyes of a dying planet. Yet for all their efforts, they were now watching the aura surrounding Meteor reach out and strangle the vast city of Midgar. Thousands of screams were drowned out by the shriek of metal tearing apart, and the roar of the very air being singed by the sheer energy that was all about them. Sephiroth lay dead somewhere deep underground, Jenova's role as puppeteer shattered as the eight of them threw down her reunited form in the Northern Crater. Still, the end was upon them.

Had it all been in vain?

An unnatural hush fell over the city. Even the crumbling buildings seemed to obey the mystical silence. Time itself seemed to slow, and Meteor became a mere afterthought, pushed aside by a pair of green eyes. The eyes were wide and horrified, a terrible uncertainty causing countless hearts to stop beating, if only for a brief second. But then there was a great collective sigh of relief, as the horror was replaced by triumph. A smile on invisible lips was contagious to the people facing the end of their lives.

As if it knew that it was about to lose its battle, Meteor let out a great burst of blue light, tearing off the top of the Shinra building and sending it crashing onto the weakening plate below. A few renewed screams filled the air, quickly silenced and they joined the unlucky casualties of a war that was taking place beyond their existence and comprehension.

Finally, the source of the green-eyed relief became obvious. Great tendrils of glowing Lifestream were reaching out from the ground surrounding the collapsing city. The many-fingered hand of the Planet was reaching upwards and grasping at Meteor. At once, the crackling blue light faded away, replaced with the soothing pale green energy washing over the people of the city and those on the airship high above. The intensity grew, and the light became blinding. A terrible cry filled the air, the Planet was screaming from its own efforts. They were blind and deaf to everything now, their world was nothing but light and horrific noise. Were it not for the ethereal assuredness shown in those green eyes beyond their dying world, panic would gripped them beyond all hope of salvation. But those eyes kept them rooted to the spot, stunned and awed, as the battle was won.

The light faded and the noise drifted away on the wind, leaving them staring at a dark and empty sky. Meteor had vanished. Midgar lay in ruins a thousand feet below. Tifa Lockhart blinked away the last of the blindness and turned to Cloud Strife, whose vision seemed fixed on some point beyond the empty sky.

"Is it over?" she asked.

Cloud made no move a to show he had heard her. He stared, unblinking, at something only he could see, mouth slightly open as if he wanted to speak, but had no words.

Tifa reached out and took his hand. "Cloud?" she asked, her fear rising up once more. "What's wrong?"

"Snap out it, kid!" shouted Cid Highwind, his seemingly impenetrable tough-guy attitude firmly back in place. He seemed remarkably unfazed, but when they could all see his hands shaking when he lit up a fresh cigarette. The first smoke after the world had escaped the apocalypse was something to be savored.

Barret Wallace was standing on the other side of the deck, looking towards the village of Kalm rather then down at Midgar like his comrades. Hearing Cid's harsh tone made him crash back down into reality and turn to face the others.

"Cloud...?" he asked, unable to rebuild his own tough-guy attitude as quickly as Cid had. "The hell's wrong with you?"

Nanaki was lying down in the deck, his front paws covering his eyes. Yuffie Kisaragi, who had been cowering in a corner the whole time, stood up and did her best to look as if nothing had happened. She almost tripped over Nanaki as she walked over towards Cloud and Tifa, and looked down at the beast, wondering why he hadn't so much as made a sound when she accidentally kicked him. He remained as still as his father's petrified form in the depths of Cosmo Canyon. Yuffie knelt down next to him and reached out shakily to run her fingers through his fiery fur. His stillness was frighteningly unnatural. She bend down further and put her face right next to his.

"Guys!" she shouted, leaping to her feet. Barret and Cid both turned away from Cloud to look at her, but Tifa was still squeezing his hand with increasing desperation. "Red's not breathing!" Yuffie cried when she got someone's attention. "He's not breathing!"

Barret strode over quickly, reaching down with his one massive hand, and shaking Nanaki's shoulder. Not so much as a whimper escaped.

"Shit!" Cid shouted, a puff of smoke following his curse. "What the hell's goin' on!?"

Barret straightened up and paused, running the situation through in his mind before a deeply troubled looked came into his dark eyes. He whirled around and stared at Vincent Valentine, who, like Cloud, had been standing perfectly still and silent since the light had faded. No one had taken any notice, because this was not out of the ordinary for Vincent.

"Hey!" Barret said urgently. "Snap out of it, you damn vampire!"

Like Cloud and Nanaki, Vincent remained perfectly still. The only movement was his long red cloak rippling from the cold breeze that was still charged with a strange energy.

"What's wrong with everyone?" Yuffie asked, trying to hide the waver in her voice.

"It's everyone that Hojo fucked with..." Barret snarled. "He did something to them..."

They turned to look over at Cait Sith, the unsettling looking robotic cat perched atop a fat white mog controlled by Alexander Reeve. The cat was completely lifeless.

"Do you think Reeve got out?" Cid wondered aloud.

Barret snorted. "Who cares about that damn Shinra manager?" His worried expression didn't match his harsh words.

Tifa's scream got their attention once more. Cloud had suddenly leapt up onto the railing of the deck, the wind whipping through his spiky blonde hair as he balanced impossibly on the thin metal bar. Tifa was screaming as she pulled desperately at his hand, trying to get him back down onto the deck, but he was held there by a strength that was beyond her ability to fight. With a stream of curses and panicked shouting, Barret, Cid, and Yuffie all raced over to Cloud, and all four of them tried to forced him down to safety. The unseen power holding him there was stronger them all four of them together.

Cloud's mako blue stare was still fixed on that mysterious point beyond static reality. He was staring deeply into the green eyes that washed over a million Midgan minds in a soothing wave. The eyes that had faded away from everyone else had only become stronger to him. They were Aeris's eyes, and they were calling to him.

Amid the screams and shouts of his four comrades, Cloud shook himself free of their grip and leapt from the railing, plunging down towards the ruins of Midgar a thousand feet below. Tifa's heart stopped beating. In blind panic she reached over the railing and tried to grab him in that split second before he was forever beyond her reach. She lost her balance and would have followed him over the edge, were it not for Barret grabbing her by the ankle and pulling her back onto the deck. She lay on the hard wood and metal, sobbing and motionless. The other three watched in horror as Cloud fell, his body fading beyond their sight as it became shrouded in the faint green mist that the Lifestream had left in the air.

Something was wrong with the sight. Cloud's body appeared to be getting closer, rather than disappearing forever in the mist. He was flying back up towards the Highwind. Three astonished pairs of eyes watched as their friend and leader soared back up to their level. A great white wing had emerged from his back, and soon he was looking down on them, a genuine smile on his face, something they hadn't seen since before Aeris's death at Sephiroth's hands. He spoke no words to them. All he did was smile and nod. At once, the shocked silence was broken by a painful howl from Nanaki as he leapt to his feet and began pacing wildly before recomposing himself and staring up at Cloud with as much surprise as any of them. Vincent moaned slightly and ran his human hand backwards through his raven hair, and after a moment of confusion, he too was staring at Cloud in wonder. With a quick wave at his friends, Cloud vanished in a brief flash of pale green light.

He found himself standing at a silver gate, intricately inlaid with words in a language he could not understand. The language of the Cetra. There were countless people staring at him from the other side, but only one that ran forward. The only one who mattered With tears in her eyes, Aeris ran from the crowd and stopped just inside the gate, offering him her hand. Words were beyond him, so Cloud silently took her hand and stepped inside. They stared at each other in wonder, grasping each other's hand tightly as if to confirm that it was all real. Finally, Aeris threw her arms around Cloud's shoulders, and their lips met. He wrapped his wing around her to pull her in even closer. Countless generations of Cetra watched as a human became one of them. Cloud Strife, one of the greatest heroes known to the Planet, was the first human ever to be allowed past the gate of the Cetra Promised Land.

After what could have been an eternity, Cloud stepped back and looked at Aeris, a single tear running down his cheek.

"Is it over?" he asked.

Aeris looked suddenly downcast. "It was selfish of me..." she said sadly.

"What was?"

"Bringing you here..." she said. "It's... it's not over, Cloud. But your part is. It's up to the others now. If they can go on without you... I don't know if you realized how much you mean to all of them..."

"Didn't we do enough? Isn't Sephiroth defeated?"

Aeris nodded. "It's not him. I don't know what's going to happen... But this isn't how it ends..."

"So, how does it end?"

Aeris shook her head. "I don't know... I asked the Planet to help them all... however it can..."

Seeing her guilt, Cloud pulled her close again. "They can handle it," he said softly. "Whatever it is. After all, our part is finished, right?"

Aeris nodded and sniffed, wiping away another tear. Hand in hand, they turned their back on the gate and walked into the depths of the Promised Land, knowing that they were now only observers. The fight for the Planet's life had fallen onto the shoulders of those Cloud had left behind.

"We're free now..." Aeris whispered, leaning her head against Cloud's shoulder.

------

"What the hell just happened?" Cid demanded.

Barret was still staring vacantly at the point where Cloud had disappeared. "He's gone..." he stammered. "I don't believe it..."

"The wing..." a soft, calm voice said from behind them. They all turned and stared at Vincent in wonder.

"They gave him Sephiroth's other wing. Now he's at peace."

* * *

**Author's Pointless Monologue:** Don't worry, I'm not giving up the pointless monologues! They're back in spades, my friends. Be prepared for my scorn of George W. Bush to increase exponentially as the American elections get closer. Anyway, a few words about this story, mostly for the people who haven't read the old version. When I read FF7 fanfiction, I see four characters that are written about far more than any others. Cloud, Aeris, Sephiroth, and Vincent. In keeping up with my goal of writing a story unlike any other, I've taken three of those four right out, leaving only Vincent (hey, I can't get rid of Vincent!). That's not to say the other three won't be mentioned, or have the occasional dream/flashback appearance, but this is not a resurrection fic. I'm seeing if it's possible to take the game characters and turn them into realistic people (though often in unrealistic situations) and yet still keep them in line with who they were during the game. The jury's still out on how well I'm doing...

By the way, if there's anyone reading this who lives close to Ottawa, will you do me a favor if Bush wins in November? Go the House of Commons and smack Steven Harper in the back of the head, because I'm sure he'll be grinning like a jackass. Tell 'em a strangely coloured dog sent you.

Oh, and for those of you who have read this before, don't assume that you know everything that's going to happen, because some things are going to be different!


	2. The Memorial

**Chapter 2**

**The Memorial**

_"A man's dying is more the survivors' affair than his own."_

-Thomas Mann

****

**Cosmo Canyon, 7 days after Meteor**

Barret Wallace was kneeling by Tifa's bed in silence, having long since run out of comforting words. Comfort was not his strong suit by any means, but a strange paralysis had fallen over the group since the destruction of Meteor and Cloud's supernatural death.

Tifa was facing the wall, with her back to him, and didn't even seem to be aware that he was there. It had been a week since Cid had flown them all to Cosmo Canyon. Barret's long sought after victory party had become nothing more than an drawn-out funeral. He and Yuffie were the only two who seemed relatively unaffected by the pall of despair that had fallen over the group. Nanaki had stayed by Tifa's side during the first night, when she was still sobbing her eyes out, unable to speak to any of them, or hear any of them trying to speak to her. He had laid beside her bed all night, and listening to her sobbing gradually fade away and transform into the numb depression had now endured for six straight days. However, after that night, Nanaki had grown increasingly reclusive, complaining of headaches and preferring to stay locked up inside in grandfather's laboratory. Vincent had suggested that it was his way of mourning Bugenhagen's death, which was still quite recent. Barret would have even welcomed Vincent's support, but like Nanaki, Vincent was becoming increasingly anti-social. Of course, it wasn't unusual for Vincent to shy away from people, but Barret hadn't caught sight of him for two days. He guessed that he returned to his coffin in the Nibelheim mansion, and was starting to doubt whether he would ever see the man again.

The was a knock at the door. Barret stood up and opened it to reveal Yuffie, holding a glass of water and looking worried.

"Thanks," Barret said gruffly. He was actually grateful for Yuffie's help, but that wasn't something he would ever admit to her. Yuffie was likewise grateful for the company, or at least for having someone to bicker with so she could cheer herself up.

"Tifa, you've gotta drink somethin'," Barret said, taking the water from the little ninja and turning back to Tifa's prone form on the bed. The only response he got was a small sniffle. Barret sighed. He had been through this routine before. He handed the glass back to Yuffie, and returned to Tifa's bedside. Sliding his good arm under her shoulders, he eased her into a sitting position. She opened her eyes and moaned slightly in protest. Barret almost wished she would put up more of a fight. At least that would be reminiscent of the tough girl he knew.

Yuffie walked over and held the glass to Tifa's lips. She stared at the ninja blankly, her eyes frighteningly bloodshot, with deep gray circle underneath as if in tribute to her unhappiness.

"If I drink it, will you both leave me alone?" she asked hoarsely.

"Yeah, girl, we'll get lost," Barret said. "But you have to drink all of it."

Tifa drank the water down in one gulp and wordlessly handed the glass back to Yuffie. She only ate and drank when she was forced too, and both Barret and Yuffie were at a loss for what to do. The elders of Cosmo Canyon sympathized, but they were more concerned with Nanaki's strange affliction than with Tifa's depression.

"Come on," Barret said to Yuffie. "She held up her end."

Yuffie nodded and followed after him as he shut the door. The two of them walked down the long corridor of the inn, and only stopped when the left the building and were standing on the wooden platform outside.

"Who's watchin' Marlene?" Barret asked, glaring at Yuffie. "If you're gonna be actin' like a damn babysitter, then you shouldn't be just up and leavin' her behind."

Yuffie smirked at him, the solemnity of Tifa's room now left behind. "God, you're overprotective. 'Course, my dad was just as big a prick as you, and look how good I turned out!" She laughed out loud at the horrified expression that flickered over Barret's features. "Don't worry so much, old man! She's down by the Candle. Nothing's going to happen to her there. The whole freakin' village can see her."

Barret's expression told Yuffie that she may have crossed the line slightly, which wasn't very hard to do given the current circumstances. She turned away and scampered down the ladder, running towards the Candle to join the little girl.

Barret watched from the platform as Marlene jumped up, and Yuffie began chatting animatedly. Much to his chagrin, Marlene had taken a shine to the Wutain girl. He knew the main reason that Yuffie was spending so much time with his daughter was to aggravate him, but there wasn't much he could do. Between keeping Tifa from withering away and trying to figure out why Nanaki was acting so strangely, he couldn't spend as much time with his daughter as he would have liked.

Being reunited with his daughter had been the only silver lining to the situation. Cid had flown them away from Midgar after Cloud's strange goodbye, and Cosmo Canyon had seemed like the best place for them to go. Nanaki had wanted to go home, and with the exception of Yuffie, he was the only one that really had a home to return to. Barret knew that he was going to have to go to Corel soon, but was hesitant to leave Tifa behind. With the shadow of Shinra lifted, Corel could be rebuilt. He wanted to see it become the place for all those drifting aimlessly in the wake of Shinra's downfall to call home. He had high hopes for his old hometown, bordering on the impossible, and watching Avalanche crumble was giving him a lot of doubts. What kind of a leader was he? The last time he had used authority in Corel, the city had been burned to the ground. During his time as the leader of Avalanche, he watched as the original members died off one by one at the hands of the Shinra. Of those first Avalanche members, only he and Tifa remained. And Tifa was now fading away while he dreamed of a New Corel, glorious enough to wash away his guilt over the fate of the old one.

Was that selfish of him? No, he wanted to build the city for others, not for himself... He wanted it for Marlene. The little girl had seen so much tragedy in her four short years, she deserved a real home.

Yuffie was still prattling on, and seemed to have his daughter's undivided attention. He snorted, and thought that it figured, thinking that the two of them had about the same maturity level. Still, there was another worry on his mind, one he certainly didn't need added to the rest of the weight pressing down his shoulders. After Cid had dropped them off, he had left in the Highwind once more, to returned to Rocket Town. Though he didn't actually say it, they all knew he had been going to get Shera. Naturally, Barret had expected him to return in a day or so, all smiles and smoke, with Shera by his side. But that hadn't happened. The days slowly drifted by, and Cid's absence became more and more mysterious. After four days, Barret had called him on the PHS, but there had been no response. He tried getting in touch with the pilot whenever he had a spare moment, but Cid had apparently disappeared off the face of the Planet. At first, Barret had tried rationalizing it by telling himself that Cid just wanted to spend some 'quality time' with Shera, but that theory fell further into doubt as the time passed. After all, one of the main reasons they had come to Cosmo Canyon was because of Nanaki's suggestion that they hold a traditional Cosman Memorial for those that they had lost in their fight to save the Planet. Cid knew that, and he had told them to put off the service until he returned, It wasn't a stretch to assume that he would return as quickly as possible, unless something had really gone wrong...

What in the name of the gods was Yuffie telling his daughter? Barret leaned over the railing, the wood squeaking in protest at his weight, but they were too far away for him to hear. She was probably regaling her with some delightful anecdote about her time as a Materia Hunter. It wasn't exactly the sort of story he wanted his five-year-old to hear. He decided to join them at the Candle to throw in a little fatherly censorship if need be, so he climbed down the ladder, and made his way across the red sands to where Yuffie and Marlene sat silhouetted by the flame.

Yuffie immediately quieted when she heard him approaching, which didn't help his opinion of the stories she had been telling his daughter.

"So, whatever you're sayin' to my little girl can't be said to me, huh?" he asked darkly as he stepped up onto the Candle's miniature plateau.

"I was just telling her..." Yuffie started, though he interrupted her lie without even hearing it.

"Maybe you could tell her about how you stole all our Materia and left us at Shinra gunpoint, you damn brat..."

"Daddy, don't be so mean to Auntie Yuffie!" Marlene said shrilly. Barret couldn't even bring himself to look at the broad smirk that appeared on Yuffie's face at those words.

"Yeah, old man! Listen to your daughter!"

"He's not old..." Marlene said, looking up at Yuffie sweetly, giving Barret opportunity to get in a smirk of his own.

"Uh... I'm going to go check on Red," Yuffie said quickly, before Barret could voice whatever snide comment he had in mind. She jumped to her feet and headed off towards the observatory that towered over the rest of the peaceful village. With her gone, Barret let himself relax a little. He sat down in the dust and leaned back, letting out a deep sigh. Marlene jumped into her father's lap, and he grunted slightly at the sudden weight.

"Daddy, what's wrong with Tifa?"

It wasn't the first time she had asked that difficult question. Barret had no idea how to answer. She had been too young to remember the disaster in Corel or her parent's deaths, so Barret had always avoided that rather touchy issue, but she had certainly seen members of Avalanche come and go, and had never seemed to be able to wrap her mind around why they suddenly disappeared from her life. The innocence of childhood wasn't something Barret wanted to take from her. She certainly knew what death was, but he wasn't sure if she really understood its permanence.

"Well, Tifa's just very sad because Cloud had to leave," Barret said after a long hesitation.

"Why did Cloud leave?"

He knew that question was coming. He couldn't even really answer it for himself.

"I'm sure he had his reasons, girl." Cloud had seen a way out of this life, and he had taken it. He had ended his role in the fight. Barret caught himself feeling a little envious of Cloud's escape a few times that week, but looking down at his daughter, he knew he couldn't just leave the Planet behind.

"He just didn't have anything he wanted to stay for, I guess..." Barret muttered.

"What?" Marlene asked, unable to hear her father's quiet bitterness.

"Um, why don't you go play with Cait?" he said, changing the subject. Marlene had fallen in love with Cait Sith and his giant Mog, which had been lifeless since Meteor's destruction. To the little girl, they were nothing more than big stuffed animals, and Barret had to admit it was difficult imaging the robotic feline fight beside him when he watched his daughter playing with it as she would a giant teddy bear.

"Can I bring him out here?" Marlene pleaded eagerly.

Barret grinned. "'Course you can, girl. Just keep it away from the fire."

Marlene squealed happily and ran off to the inn where Cait Sith stood in the lobby. Barret watched her go, wondering what it would be like to be so happy when all the world seemed to be falling apart. He had been the leader of Avalanche in the beginning, and now the leadership had fallen upon him again as the group neared its end. The circle was complete. He wanted nothing more than the build a life with his daughter in Corel... To see people shake off years of Shinra oppression and help him build a new city...

He stared into the flames. If there was any justice at all flowing through the Lifestream, he would be allowed a normal life.

------

Yuffie finally climbed the last of the stairs leading to the observatory, and knocked on the door.

"Red? You feeling better yet?"

The door opened, and Elder Hargo stepped out into the red light of the setting sun, frowning at Yuffie for creating such a disturbance.

"He is feeling somewhat better," Hargo said solemnly.

"Well, what was wrong with him, anyway?"

Hargo shook his head sadly, a few loose silvery hairs falling down into his eyes. He pushed them aside with long, weathered fingers, and smiled down at Yuffie, a thousand care lines spreading across his ancient face.

"Insatiable, aren't you?" he said, chuckling to himself. "Regrettably, we do not know what ails our Nanaki. The Elders have been reading all of Bugenhagen's studies of Nanaki's kind, and we still do not understand this strange affliction."

"Figures," Yuffie snorted. "You people always try to solve everything by sitting around and reading..."

Hargo raised an eyebrow. "It is only in the most extreme situations that the written word had failed us, young lady. In any case, Nanaki had just informed me that he was feeling well enough to attend the memorial for your friends. I don't suppose Mr. Highwind has arrived yet?"

Yuffie laughed. "Mr. Highwind? Trust me, if you knew him, you wouldn't call him that."

"That may well be," Hargo said agreeably. "How is Miss Lockheart, by the way?"

Now it was Yuffie turn to be solemn, or at least as solemn as she ever was. "She's still in bed. I think having the memorial might get her up though..."

"Yet another reason to have the memorial soon," Hargo said. "Though I suppose Mr. Highwind might be upset when he comes."

Yuffie grinned. "Yet another reason to have the memorial soon, huh?"

Hargo sighed and shook his head. "Miss Kisaragi, I believe you might be the only person I've known who would hold a memorial out of spite..."

"Who said anything about spite? I just want to see that old bastard apologize for something once in his sorry life... So anyway, can I see Red?"

Hargo held up his hand for a moment, and disappeared into the observatory. He returned after a few minutes had passed, and nodded, opening the door wider so that Yuffie could pass.

The inside of the observatory was exactly the same as it had been when she had arrived with Avalanche for the first time, over eight months ago. There were papers scattered on every available surface, along with countless little machines whose uses she couldn't even begin to fathom.

"Red?" she called. "Where are you?"

"I'm upstairs." Nanaki's voice drifted down from the opening to the second level. There was a definite note of exhaustion in his voice, which seemed even deeper and raspier than usual. Yuffie climbed the ladder to the second level of Bugenhagen's home, and saw Nanaki lying on the floor, with countless books and papers spread out all around him, covering the threadbare carpeting entirely. Much to Yuffie's surprise, Vincent was sitting on the old couch at the far side of the room with a book in his lap. He didn't bother looking up to acknowledge her entrance.

"Vinnie? I thought you went back to that creepy mansion we found you in..." Yuffie said tactlessly. Vincent slowly looked up from his reading, and she immediately noticed the dark circles under his eyes. It struck her that throughout all of their travels, trudging endless miles on foot with animals rabid with Mako poisoning often snapping at them, she had never seen Vincent look tired. It was disconcerting to see him looking so... human.

"I have matters to attend to here," Vincent said darkly, before turning back to his book. If there was one thing Yuffie could never stand, it was being ignored. She was very good at making herself impossible to ignore, but Vincent's capacity for shutting out the entire world almost always trumped her persistence.

Nanaki slowly got to his feet and walked through the piles of books until he was standing right in front of Yuffie. She couldn't help but notice how he seemed to have trouble holding his head up, and that his fiery tail was dragging along the ground instead of waving aimlessly through the air like it usually did. If he had been human, he would have looked just as worn out as Vincent, if not more so.

"Did Barret send you up?" Nanaki asked.

Yuffie shook her head. "Nah, I just came up here to get away from that old fart. And, well, I was wondering how you were doing?"

"Very eloquent," Vincent muttered, without looking up. So he was paying attention to her...

"I heard Hargo telling you that I was feeling somewhat better," Nanaki said. "Sadly, I don't know if the headaches are fading, or if I am just getting used to them."

Yuffie's eyes scanned over the floor literate carpeting once more. "So you're looking for an old family recipe for painkillers, or what?"

Nanaki laughed softly, and turned his head, following her gaze with his one good eye. "It's not quite that simple, I'm afraid. We have been looking through all of Grandfather's writing on my people's physiology, in an attempt to learn what this sickness is, and whether or not there's a cure."

"Hey, maybe it's stress!" Yuffie exclaimed, refusing to fall victim to the room's depressive atmosphere. "I've been around a lot of people who get headaches from stress, I don't know if it'd be different with you or what..."

Vincent lowered the book and glared at her. "Do you listen to yourself when you speak?"

Yuffie shrugged. "Nah, I always figure someone'll fill me in if it's important," she said with a smirk that she has always considered so endearing.

"I believe we should hold the memorial as soon as possible," Nanaki said. "Though this may sound terrible, I really must get it done so that I can concentrate on my work. Has Cid arrived yet?"

"The old bastard's probably still off with Shera," Yuffie said, her lip curling slightly at the mental image that suddenly permeated her mind. "Dunno 'bout you, but I feel pretty bad for her."

"Well, I suppose there's no time like the present," Nanaki said. "Do you suppose you'll be able to get Tifa out of the Inn?"

Yuffie nodded. "She'd better get up for this. I can't stand seeing her all wastin' away like that. It's not like her at all..."

"Be kind," Nanaki said. "Cloud was one constant in her life when she lost so much else. It will take her some time before she can face the fact that her anchor is gone."

"Whatever," Yuffie said, following her usual habit of shrugging off the depth that others sometimes spoke with. "I'll go tell her, alright?"

Nanaki nodded. "Now, I must prepare."

Without bothering to ask what kind of preparations he needed, Yuffie climbed back down the ladder and began the long winding decent down the stairs and tunnels that lead back to the ground. She noticed that Barret was still sitting with Marlene, and that the little girl was clinging to Cait Sith. It was strange seeing the little black cat without its trademark Mog, but the Mog was too heavy for Marlene to move by herself. She usually got her father to do it for her. On several occasions, Marlene had asked her to get the Mog and bring it outside, but Yuffie had always had to make up some excuse to avoid admitting that she found the giant white robot rather difficult to move as well.

Her temper had flared slightly at Vincent's snide comments. She tried to tell herself that he was just tired, and that in order for him to be tired it probably meant he hadn't slept since they arrived. She couldn't honestly say that she wouldn't be irritable after going a week without sleep. She usually got irritable if she didn't get eight hours a night. Still, it irked her that he thought she didn't care about Nanaki. And Nanaki hadn't said anything to contradict him, he had just changed the subject. Why did everyone always think that she didn't care? Wasn't the fact that she climbed down into the Crater with them to fight Sephiroth proof enough that she cared? She had openly cried when Aeris was killed, something she hadn't done since she was a small child and her mother had died during Shinra's war on Wutai. Why would she fake something like that? Just to embarrass herself?

Walking across the sand and watching Barret play with his daughter by the Candle, she thought that even if nothing else was proof enough that she actually did care about the other members of Avalanche, the fact that she was staying in Cosmo Canyon, a place she had always found terribly boring, with her only source of amusement picking fights with Barret, well... that should be proof enough for anyone. She could have just as easily gone home to Wutai.

Climbing the ladder that lead to the inn, she began wondering what she was going to say to Tifa to get her out of bed. Hopefully, just telling her that they were going to go ahead with the service even though Cid hadn't shown up would be enough, but somehow, Yuffie doubted that. She had never credited herself as being tactful, a trait she had often envied in some of her comrades, particularly Aeris and Tifa. Not that she would ever dare to admit such a thing openly. If everyone thought that she believed herself to be perfect, it was fine with her. But in truth, she knew that even big, clumsy Barret was better at cheering people up than she was, despite his cursing and bad breath.

She was jolted out of her thoughts when she found herself standing at Tifa's door, staring at the tarnished number 13 screwed into the wood. Let no one say the innkeeper didn't have a sense of humor, twisted though it might be. She knocked lightly and pressed her ear to the door, assuming that Tifa's response would be soft-spoken.

"Go away. I drank the water, okay?"

"Tifa, it's me," Yuffie said, hesitantly. She could count the number of times she came to visit Tifa the past week without Barret already being there on one hand. She actually admired Tifa, something that couldn't be said of many other people, and she really disliked seeing her in such a state of perpetual despair.

"What do you want?"

Sighing, Yuffie slowly opened the door and peered inside. Nothing ever changed in that room. Time seemed to stand still. A small lamp on the bedside table was the only light. The empty water glass stood beside the lamp. At least she had been honest about that. Could that be a good sign? Earlier in the week, Barret discovered she had been lying about the amount of food she had been eating when he began to notice a foul smell in the room. After a quick search, he had found that Tifa had been shoving most of the meals they gave her under the bed.

"Um... Tifa? Red's ready to start the Memorial. He really wants you to be there, and so does Barret, and... well, so do I."

Tifa actually sat up at those words, something she hadn't done without coaxing all week. Yuffie looked at her feet awkwardly. Seeing Tifa's eyes so bloodshot, and her face so unnervingly pale made her uncomfortable. If she kept this up, she was going to be as pale as Vincent within days.

"Did Cid come back?" she asked weakly.

Yuffie shook her head, still pretending to have taken an unnatural interest in her own feet. "Red wants to go ahead with it anyway."

"You don't think that Cid... that something happened to him...?"

If there was subject that she wanted to avoid, it was the thought of another one of their comrades getting hurt or killed.

"Cid? Nah, he's too much of a bastard to die," Yuffie said, though her usual perky voice sounded strangely flat. "You really need to get out of this room," she added. After all, she was feeling the unhappiness weighing her down, and she had only been in the room for a couple of minutes. She couldn't even imagine how the atmosphere must be weighing on Tifa.

After painfully long pause, Tifa finally spoke up.

"Okay. Just... just don't start until I get there, alright?"

Yuffie nodded, feeling tremendously relieved. She gratefully backed out of the room and closed the door, breathing a sigh of relief. Even the air outside that depressing room seemed to taste better.

She left the hotel, and joined Barret once again at the fire.

"So, how's the big cat holdin' up?" he asked when she sat down next to him.

Yuffie shrugged. "I guess he's doing a bit better. He's coming out to do the service soon."

"What?" Barret jumped to his feet. "Now I gotta go drag Tifa outta that bed..."

"Would you just relax, old man!" Yuffie snapped. "I already told her, and she's on her way."

Barret looked a bit stunned. "Oh..." he said lamely, before sitting back down. "Well, aren't you on top o' things tonight?"

Yuffie turned to face him and smiled sweetly. "You say that like it's a big surprise."

"'Cause it is," Barret said abruptly not bothering to meet Yuffie's gaze. He turned his attention back to where his daughter was playing with Cait Sith a few feet away, on the edge of the stone plateau.

While Yuffie was considering the best way to reply to that comment, she noticed that Vincent was stepping off the bottom stair that led up to the observatory. Barret was still ignoring her, so he didn't bother to follow her gaze. It wasn't until Vincent was standing right beside the fire that Barret noticed him, but Vincent had always had a way moving in complete silently. Yuffie knew that it was from years of Turk training, but she preferred to tell herself that it was because he was a vampire. It was just more interesting that way...

Marlene caught sight of Vincent before her father, and she dropped the little black cat and ran and jumped in Barret's lap, whispering in his ear that the scary man was back. If Vincent was perturbed by the reaction he received, he didn't show it.

Barret turned to face the fire, and saw Vincent standing above him, looking larger than life with the red cape billowing in the evening breeze. As per his nature, Barret tried to cover the fact that he was startled by getting angry.

"Where the hell have you been, you damn spook!?" he demanded.

"Reading," Vincent said coldly. With an almost imperceptible sigh, he sat down, taking care to keep himself at least ten feet away from both Barret and Yuffie. He drew his long legs up to his chest, and somehow managed to sit just as rigidly as he stood.

What was it about Vincent Valentine that made the silence so thick? Fortunately, they didn't have to worry about it much longer, because Nanaki strode slowly into the light of the flames and sat down on his hind legs.

"I regret that I will not be able to perform the service," he said sadly. "Tradition requires the speaker to free his mind of all harmful thought, so as to provide a guide for the mourners. I cannot achieve such a state, given the current circumstances."

"Geez, Red," Yuffie said, surprised at Nanaki's sudden wave of self-deprecation. The fiery lion rarely spoke of himself at all, so it was strange to hear him refer to himself in such a negative light. "Don't be so hard on yourself."

Marlene jumped off her father's lap to retrieve Cait, hugging him close and looking at Vincent nervously.

Much to everyone's relief, Tifa was walking towards them as well. The relief became somewhat hesitant when they saw the way she was walking, with her shoulders slumped and her eyes cast firmly at the sand directly in front of her feet. She had always been so alert, taking in every detail of her environment, a habit learned from both her training as a martial artist and all the time she had spent in the Nibelheim mountains. Comparing the Tifa they knew to they Tifa they were now looking at, she seemed lost.

Without saying a word, she sat down in front of the flames and stared into them with an unwavering gaze. Everything about her posture made it clear she wanted no one to speak with her. She had also sat down next to Vincent, largely because he was the person least likely to begin to ask her questions.

Barret looked around at the remnants of Avalanche. "So this is it, huh?" he asked, speaking to no one in particular. "Last ones standing?" He immediately regretted his phrasing when he saw Tifa visibly flinch at his words. "Uh, what I mean is..." he began, searching his mind for a quick save that wasn't coming.

Luckily, Elder Hargo stepped up onto the Candle's plateau and raised one hand to quiet them, as if he has walked into a lively conservation.

"Nanaki has requested that I perform the ceremony. I informed him I would be honored. Of course, if anyone objects..." He trailed off, seeing Barret and Yuffie shake their heads, and Vincent shrug ever so slightly.

"The service is very simple," Hargo said. "It begins with a prayer to the Planet to allow the deceased safe passage into the Lifestream."

Much to everyone's surprise, except Nanaki, Hargo began singing in a soft baritone. The words were of a language none of them had ever heard before, it was certainly not the Common Tongue, and a moment of listening told them it was not Old Wutain either.

The song carried a great sadness in its melody. The cryptic words seemed to paint the image of all those that had ever been mourned under those notes, sitting by that near-eternal flame. Everyone became hypnotized by Hargo's voice rising and falling, asking the Planet to accept their fallen comrades with it's metaphorical arms wide open.

Only the thinnest ray of the setting sun was visible when Hargo was finished his song. "Now, we will speak the names of those that have fallen, and for one minute, nothing else shall be said, and there shall be no thoughts other than the life and love of the person."

"Cloud," said Nanaki. Tifa flinched again, but it was much less noticeably than she had before the song started. Obviously, the tragic melody was laying as heavily on her as it was on the rest of them.

The entire world seemed to be respecting the silence required by the Cosman Memorial. The creaking of a villager walking across their porch, the sounds of the crickets in the distance, it was all gone. The Planet held its breath as thoughts of Cloud raced through the minds of the five Avalanchers sitting by the great bonfire.

Hargo nodded when the moment was up, and Nanaki spoke again.

"Aeris."

Just as before, the world was silent in waiting. When the moment passed, Barret spoke up.

"Biggs."

The moments passed, and with each of them a new name, a old memory...

"Wedge."

"Jesse."

"Lucrecia," Vincent said softly, forgetting that he was not alone, and announcing his grief publicly as he so rarely did.

"Sephiroth," Vincent said, speaking once more. The others turned and stared at him, but Hargo's gaze kept them all silent. This time, the memories were not pleasant.

"Tseng," a tiny, high pitched voice said, followed immediately by Marlene squealing in fright and accidentally flinging Cait Sith right into the flames. At any other time, the sight of the little robotic cat jumping out of the fire and rolling in the dust to quell the flames would have been amusing, but laughing out loud would have seemed almost inhuman at the time, even when Cait stood up and tried to look indignant even though he was singed and covered in red sand.

After the moment had passed, Barret glared down at Cait. "You damn cat! How long have you been watchin' us?"

Nanaki also took an great interest in Cait's sudden reanimation. "Reeve?" he asked. "Are you alright?"

Cait nodded. "I'm fine, I guess. I just... I checked back in to see how all of you were, and well... I was right in the middle of a funeral..." He seemed much more hesitant than usual. In truth, after they had learned his real identity, Cait had been noticeably subdued.

Hargo raised a hand once more to silence them. He began singing again, but this time the melody was more uplifting. The antithesis of the sadness that the service had begun with. A plea for them to begin moving on with their lives in a language they could not understand.

At the song's end, Hargo smiled. "They are all at peace now," he said simply. He turned, and walked out of the fire's circle of light. The sun had set completely now, the stars winking to life one by one.

"So... what are you all going to do now?" Cait asked, rather sheepishly.

"Where are you, Reeve?" Nanaki asked.

"I'm in Midgar," Cait replied. "I'm getting together some old Shinra people to dismantle all the Mako reactors. I have to go... this place is a disaster... there's a lot I've got to do, and I don't exactly have a lot of people's trust..."

Barret found himself nodding his approval at Reeve's comment about the reactors, before he realized who was talking. "If you hadn't have built the damn things in the first place..." he muttered, but Cait had turned lifeless again.

"I must go rest," Nanaki said. "It feels like days since I've had any sleep." He stood up, and slowly walked away from the fire, disappearing into the shadows of the village until only the mysterious flame at the end of his tail was visible. Vincent stood up a moment later and followed wordlessly, melting into the darkness immediately.

"What are you going to do, Tifa?" Yuffie asked.

Tifa let out a ragged and painful sigh. "I have nowhere to go..." she said miserably. "I can't go back to Nibelheim, and there's nothing left for me in Midgar..."

"Hey, why don't you go to Costa del Sol," Barret suggested, pleased with himself for remembering Avalanche's villa there. "Our villa's yours, as far as I'm concerned."

Yuffie nodded vigorously. "Hey, I don't see how you can live in a place like Costa del Sol and not cheer up!"

Tifa nodded slowly and stood up. "I'm going back to bed," she said. "Tomorrow, I promise I'll leave for the coast. What else can I do?" she added softly, speaking only to herself.

Barret and Yuffie alone remained sitting by the fire.

"So..." Yuffie said expectantly.

"So what?" Barret asked, before whispering in his daughter's ear that it was time for her to go to bed. With a last frightened glace at Cait Sith, Marlene scampered off towards the Inn.

"So... what are you doing with all the materia?" Yuffie asked, trying to look as sweet and innocent as possible.

Barret groaned. "Is that all you think about?"

Yuffie's grin broadened. "Well, if you don't want it..."

Barret got to his feet and glared down at the little ninja. "Take it," he said. "But you're not gettin' a shred of the gil. I need it to get Corel up an' runnin' again."

Yuffie jumped up, grinning to broadly that Barret felt slightly ill.

"You're goin' back to Wutai, I guess..." Barret said. He looked over towards the hotel where Tifa was lying in her own misery again, and then over at the observatory where Vincent was most likely still buried in his books while Nanaki tried to get in a little sleep. A glance up at the sky reminded him of Cid, wherever he was, and a little sneer down towards Cait Sith's limp form allowed for a few memories of Reeve.

"And of an era, huh?" Yuffie said. "We're all splitting."

Barret sighed. He had seen the beginning of Avalanche, so it seemed fitting that he would stand to see the ending. He scratched the back of his neck with his good hand while Yuffie scuffed at the ground with one of her feet.

"I ain't givin' you a hug," Barret said.

"Gross! You'd be in a world of pain if you tried, old man!" Yuffie shouted back.

After a few seconds hesitancy, Barret embraced the little ninja in a huge bear hug, and she pressed her head to his chest and reached her thin arms around his broad back. They pulled apart and glared at each other for a moment, before going their separate ways to find a place to sleep. The fight was over. When the sun rose the next morning, it would be the end of Avalanche.

* * *

**Author's Pointless Monologue:** I'm going to start by saying that's not the best chapter that there has ever been. Given the inner monologue style I'm using when writing this, it's rather difficult to pull off when all the characters are together like that. I'll always give attention to some while neglecting others. Don't worry, they'll all get their say! Oh, and a couple of hardcore detail nuts might be jumping down my throat for something I do in the next chapter, so I'll get this out of the way right now. I am going to be adding places that aren't in the game. I look at the game's world map as only showing the places relevant to the game. I mean, this is a whole Planet we're talking about here, I don't like thinking that there's only three big cities and a handful of tiny villages. Most of the major events will take place in game locations though, I'm trying to stay inside the box, though right at the edge. That's the challenge in writing fanfiction that makes it interesting to me. How original can you get using an unoriginal idea? 

I'm counting down the days until the Evolve music festival (there's 3 left), which promises to be somewhere in the magical land of mushrooms. Looking at my ticket, I notice it says 'no illegal drugs' right next to 'starts at 4:20pm'. Hmmm... a clue, perhaps? It's just subtle enough to be hilarious.


	3. Fairy Tales

**Chapter 3**

**Fairy Tales**

_"Yes, I know now, traps are only set by me  
And I do not really need to be  
Assured that love is just a four-letter word"_

-Bob Dylan, _Love is Just a Four Letter Word_

**Downtown Namedi, 7 days after Meteor**

Cid Highwind rapped his knuckles on the battered wood of the bar in front of him. He sat perched uncomfortably on a barstool, tapping his foot endlessly against the bottom of the bar, ignoring the irritated looks he was getting from those around him. It wasn't as if any of them would actually speak to him angrily, the all knew who he was. After all, this city was where he had been born and raised.

Namedi was a faceless city like countless others scattered throughout the world. It lay in the shadows of the Nibelheim mountains, on the opposite side as the village of Nibelheim itself. About a two hour drive from Rocket Town, which he had called home for a decade in order to make himself forget about this city that was his true hometown.

He had been sitting on that same stool every night for six nights straight, ordering shot after shot of whiskey and doing his best not to notice the no smoking sign on the wall behind the bar directly in front of him. He pulled out another cigarette and lit it in a swift motion that had become such a habit it no longer required any thought. The bar itself was far from a high-end establishment, the tables and the bar were all covered in peeling brown paint, a large portion of which Cid had absent-mindedly picked off with his hand that wasn't used for perpetual smoking and drinking. The lights were all tinted blue, casting everything in a faint pallor that was just ugly enough to suit his foul mood.

The bartender, a lanky, unshaven man who seemed to be born and bred for his career of choice, came over upon hearing Cid's knuckles against the wood. At first, he had been amazed that Cid Highwind, who had quickly become a living legend in Namedi, would walk into his dive and order a drink. That feeling had worn off quite quickly when Cid kept coming back, drinking far more than he was talking. The bartender had made it his personal mission to get Cid to tell him what he was doing drowning himself alone in what he had referred to as a 'back-alley shithole'.

"Another one," Cid said gruffly, pushing his tumbler towards the bartender without looking at him.

"You do know that I'm going to have to cut you off eventually, right?" the bartender asked, grinning slightly. The second night Cid had come into the bar, he had tried to cut him off, and Cid had promptly offered to break him in such a way that he would be able to kiss his own ass. It wasn't a particularly pleasant mental image, but by this time the bartender had learned that Cid, legend though he might be, was too drunk to win a fight with a three-toed sloth at that point in the evening.

"Are you cutting me off now?" Cid asked, tearing his eyes away from the chuck of empty air he had been studying to look the bartender in the face.

The bartender laughed a little and shook his head. "Nah, I can still understand the things coming out of your mouth. You're good for a bit yet."

"Then fuck off and fill the goddamn glass," Cid snapped, turned back to his precious chuck of empty air.

The bartender took the abuse good-naturedly. After all, that was really a part of the job, especially when you worked in a complete hole like the one they were in. Also, he knew that if he bit back, Cid would never talk to him, and his curiosity would never be put to rest. He reached behind him and grabbed the bottle. A quick glance told him that there were five ounces left at best, so he just put the bottle down in front of Cid and slid his glass back towards him.

"You own the whole damn bottle now, my friend," he said, before turning his attention briefly to other patrons, none of whom he was as interested in.

Cid grumbled his thanks and poured another drink, downing it in one go and chasing it with a drag on his cigarette. He could hear some nameless shmuck beside him complaining about the selectiveness of the no smoking rule, the bartender responding by saying that the smoker was none other than Cid Highwind.

"Living legend, huh?" Cid said suddenly, causing the bartender to turn back towards him with an eyebrow raised.

Cid raised his glass and grinned weakly. "And look at me now!"

The bartender leaned on the bar, propping himself up with his elbows. "Are you ever going to tell us what you're doing in here? Where's the rest of your little tribe, anyway?"

Cid shrugged and blew smoke intentionally in the bartender's face, wishing he hadn't said anything. The thick haze settling over his brain was making it difficult to think. He heard a bit of scattered applause behind him and turned around, surprised that his offhand comment had warranted such a reception.

There was a three man band set up in the corner, guitar, drums and bass. All of those men looked like that hadn't showered in days, all matted hair and three-day stubble. Still, the patrons seemed somewhat appreciative.

"What the fuck's goin' on?" Cid demanded, turned back towards the bartender, who shrugged.

"We usually get a band in here on Fridays," he said.

"You could've warned me, you damn bastard," Cid growled. He was not in the mood to have the silence broken by some third rate musicians.

The drummer started in, and the other two followed suite, the notes resonating in Cid's drunken brain. As the guitarist started singing, he figured that maybe it would work as one more thing to take his mind off the events of the past week.

_I woke up this morning to find myself here_

_No, I don't know where, but I know you're near_

"Look Highwind, the suspense is killing me already," the bartender said, raising his voice to compete with the band.

Cid glared at him. "The hell are you talking about?"

"You just saved the world, man! You're a hero, why in god's name would you want to hang out in a dump like this?"

_Strange, you're set in my deepest fears_

_As you're standing and staring at the mirror_

"Why the fuck do you care? I'm a payin' customer. End of the damn story."

"Dammit, can't you just humour me? I've been doing this for a long time, I know the subtle signs when people just walked through a heap of shit, and trust me, your signs ain't too subtle."

_I'd look out my window in the dead of the night_

_I'd see a streetlight, just one lonely streetlight_

"I'm just not a subtle guy," Cid said honestly. "And it's none of your damn business!"

"You walk in here, and you're my business, man. I go home at night and tell my wife that Cid Highwind's rotting in my bar, and she's been bugging me for an explanation!"

_It'll be my spotlight, where I'll sing to you_

_From there I'll walk on down the street, and never live here again_

"The hell should I care about your wife naggin' at you?"

The bartender laughed. "Because I've been running a tab for you, because I'm letting you smoke, because I don't cut you off when I should, and because I'm damn curious!"

_I smell change just around the corner_

_And I thought that I knew her_

_Lightning hits me as my hand touches the wall_

_And I thought that I could have it all..._

Cid turned around and glared at the band. "Are you fuckers just playing that shit to piss me off!?" he shouted, though it was obvious the band couldn't hear him.

"Why?" the bartender wheedled. "Is it eating at you? It's a woman, isn't it?"

Cid turned back around, the metallic squeak of the stool motion drowned out by the music. "Fine!" he said, pouring himself another drink. "You want to know what I'm doin' in this shithole? I'll tell you the fuckin' story..."

**Rocket Town, 12 hours after Meteor**

Cid landed the Highwind just beyond the horizon of Rocket Town. He stepped back and shook his head sadly at the damage his baby had taken. The silver hull was riddled with scorch marks and cracks. Whole chunks were missing. It was a miracle that it was still able to fly at all. Cid's beloved Lady Luck had a hideous burn right across her face. He shrugged it off, figuring the face was hardly the most important part of his little design. In retrospect, he should have realized what a bad omen it was.

The reason he had landed so far from Rocket Town was because he didn't want her to see that he was home. He wanted to surprise her, to walk in the door of his house to a warm greeting and finally get the score settled. He couldn't figure out why he had never realized that he was in love with Shera Atkins, and had been for years. Perhaps it had taken staring death directly in face so many times over the past year, or perhaps it had been that he had finally made it into space, so his burden of unachieved dreams was lifted. Whatever the reason, he was in no mood to ponder it now. The question that was really gnawing at him was whether or not she loved him back.

Really, there was no reason for him to think that she didn't. After all, she had stayed with him, she had put up with him, and it would take an enormous amount of patience for anyone to be capable such a feat. There had to be some reason behind such inhuman patience.

With a silent nod towards Lady Luck, faceless though she was, he turned his back on his beloved ship and began the long walk towards the small town. He could just barely see the tips of those metallic fingers grasping at the sky, the towers that had once held his rocket. Cigarette clenched firmly between his teeth, he just moved one foot after another, wanting to be home immediately, but at the same time hoping he never got there. A thin line of smoke trailed away behind him, marking the path he was taking.

His walk into town seemed to be taken right out of normal time. He couldn't tell how long he had been moving, but suddenly he was staring at the familiar door to his little Rocket Town home. He raised his fist to knock on the door, but stopped himself. This was his home after all. He had never had to knock to go into his own home before. Why change now?

He pushed the door open and walked into his little kitchen, the smell of coffee striking him immediately. He had never liked the stuff, preferring tea and being none too subtle about it. Shera was sitting at the table, mug in hand, staring at him as if she had known he was coming.

"Come on, am I that predictable?" he said. It wasn't exactly the way he had meant to start the conversation.

"I knew you'd be coming back," Shera said. Cid was taken aback by the bitterness in her voice. Vague alarms began sounding in the back of his mind.

"I... I've got something I gotta say..." Cid stammered, as his heart began pounding even harder than it had as he had made the descent into the North Crater to face Sephiroth.

"So do I," Shera said, taking a sip of her coffee. Her hands were shaking slightly as she put the mug back down on the table. The words could have been interpreted as a good sign, but the atmosphere was far too heavy.

"It's just that... I..." Cid attempted, but the alarms were getting louder, and he was having trouble hearing his own thoughts.

Shera stood up and leaned over the table, looking him directly in the eyes as she spoke. "You're too late, Cid," she said.

It seemed that time had decided to freeze up again. Cid took a step back as if someone had kicked him. "Whaddya mean too late?"

"We've known each other for twelve years. We were practically kids when we met!"

"But... things change, ya know."

"That's the problem, Cid. They haven't. Nothing's changed!" She straightened up and turned towards the window, staring vacantly at the sky outside. "Did you know that last month marked the eleventh year that I've been living in this house with you?"

"I didn't know it was last month..."

"Eleven years..." Shera said, shaking her head sadly. "I gave eleven years to this place, and I got nothing but shit from you!"

"But I'm sorry... I said I was sorry when we were up in space..."

She turned towards him again, the anger written all over her face. "Well, that's the problem, isn't it!? Eleven years, and all I get is an apology! Don't interrupt me!" she said quickly, when Cid opened his mouth to get a word in. "What were you waiting for? When we were in space, when you finally achieved that damn dream you were always so obsessed with, when we were about to get blown to pieces! That should have been the time, Cid. That was as long as I was willing to wait, and I didn't know that until the moment passed. The world was about to end, we were about to be killed, and all you could say was that you were sorry!"

"I am sorry though..."

"That's not good enough!" she shouted, with such ferocity that Cid winced as if in physical pain.

"I... I do love you, ya know..."

Shera shook her head. "No you don't. You love a habit. That's all this life we've been living is. It's a habit. I used to love you, and I got so used to it, that I didn't realize that I don't anymore. If you had've spoken up ten years ago, then maybe..."

"...Maybe what?"

"...We could have been happy together. If I just smiled and told you I loved you right now, neither us of would ever really be happy. You can't force happiness. We're not living in a fairy tale, Cid. This life, well... it's not perfect. God, is it ever not perfect!"

Cid was at a complete loss for words. After all, he had just saved the world. Don't such people deserve the fairy tale ending? Was this really happening? Maybe he had fallen asleep at the helm of the Highwind. He'd better wake up before he crashed...

"I'm leaving this place," Shera said. "I have to live a real life. And so do you."

All passengers remain calm...

He had just crashed. All he could do was stand like a deer hypnotized by a pair of headlights as Shera picked up a suitcase that she had under the table and walked by him to leave. Having so many things that he should say left him with none that he actually could.

Time passed. Maybe an hour, maybe only five minutes. Still paralysed in disbelief, Cid sat down at the table, staring off at nothing. The house suddenly didn't feel like home anymore. It felt all backwards... unfriendly and alien...

In a sudden wave of rage, Cid grabbed the coffee mug and flung it against the wall, spraying ceramic shards and steaming liquid all over the room.

This wasn't home anymore... but there had to be a home for him somewhere... Well, there was only one other place in his life that he had called home. His hometown.

He had been pushed so hard that he would have to take a step backwards in life.

**Downtown Namedi, 7 days after Meteor**

"So I threw my shit together and I hitched I ride up to this fuckin' hole in the wall," Cid spat bitterly.

"Pretty rough, man," the bartender said sympathetically.

"Ya know, I spent my half my goddamn life tryin' to get away from this city." Cid's words were becoming increasingly slurred with each passing sentence. "I feel like I'm fuckin' fourteen years old again."

"Oh come on, Namedi's not so bad," the bartender said. "After all, we produced the legendary Cid Highwind..."

Cid snorted. "You ever been to the part of town that I came from? If you haven't then you're lucky, so shut the fuck up, 'cause I don't like lucky people. The old man's probably still sittin' and rottin' back home..."

Cid suddenly jumped to his feet, swaying slightly and grabbed the bar for support. The bartender started, and looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"There's somethin' I gotta do..." Cid said, stumbling towards the door.

"Wait! You might want to sober up before you do anything too harsh..." the bartender called, but they were useless words, because Cid was already out the door. No one else even turned to watch him leave.

Fourteen years and fourteen shots hadn't managed to wipe his memory of Namedi's streets. He had spent most of his childhood prowling those streets, stalling for time and not wanting to return to his house. Of course, he had to learn to be tough, because too many of his fellow midnight drifters would have been eager to do awful things to a lone kid wandering in the dead of the night. Things had never really been easy...

Whatever gods there might be, with whatever karma they might be willing to bestow, Cid felt that they had owed him a happy ending. After all, it was easier to place the blame on mystical forces working against him then it was to blame himself. But beneath the drunken fog and the misplaced anger, he knew that it was no one's fault but his own. He had driven Shera away. He had long since come to the conclusion that if he ever let even the tiniest crack form in his arrogance, it would cause a catastrophic flood. He was living the results of such a flood at that very moment. Drifting in the streets, with an unwanted destination in mind, and rationality was too drunk to do its job.

He was walking past the run down inn that he had been staying in. A small voice told him that he should just go and sleep it off, but the voice was speaking with pure futility. No, he wasn't going to get a happy ending, because he didn't deserve one. But he knew someone else in Namedi who didn't deserve one either. Somehow, he doubted that the fourteen years that had passed since he had spoken to that person would have changed anything. If such a change were possible, than it should have happened when he was still a kid, based solely on the assumption that he deserved to have something go right in his life.

He paused for a moment, wondering what Shera had done after she left Rocket Town. After all, she had left with purpose. She hadn't been forced to find a new life. It had been her choice...

**Berwick, 17 hours after Meteor**

She wasn't sure what it was about the little village of Berwick that had finally persuaded her to stop and get some rest. She had been driving for five straight hours, on the terribly mountainous road that ran between Rocket Town and Costa del Sol. She had driven though dozens of little villages like Berwick, each more innocuous than the last.

It could have been the fact that her hands were shaking so hard she was having trouble gripping the wheel. Perhaps it was the tears that were continuously welling up in her eyes, blurring the dismal road before her. In any case, she had pulled over to the side of the road and gotten out, breathing in the fresh air, and studying her little truck with a certain dismay.

That truck had always been a source of stress-relief for her, something mechanical she could ticker with when Cid's attitude or life in general were getting her down. After the precarious drive through the mountains, it was looking a little worse for the wear. With a sigh, she sat down on the back bumper, not caring that mud from the bumper was staining her white jacket.

The hours Shera had spent waiting for Cid to return after Meteor was destroyed were the longest hours in her life, even longer then those she spent wondering whether or not Meteor was going to be stopped. She knew that he would be back that night. So she sat, drinking coffee in a vague act of rebellion, knowing that Cid hated the stuff so much, waiting and convincing herself that she was going to leave no matter what he said.

None of that had prepared her for the look on his face. She had gone over what she was going to say so many times in her head, but she had never factored in what Cid's reaction as going to be. Probably because giving that too much thought was going to make her feel to guilty to leave. No, she had to think thoughts that would make her strong, strong enough to do what she should have done years earlier. Cid wasn't the only one who waited too long for something.

Shera bit down hard on her lower lip to stop herself from crying, and looked down the road. The sun was high in the cloudless sky, and the sleepy little village was probably as close to bustling as it ever got. She could hear the sound of music and laughter in the distance, groups of people celebrating that fact that their planet had cheated death. The overall ambience didn't suit her mood at all. It made her want to get back into the truck and keep driving until she found a more depressing town to wallow in, but it was unlikely that she would ever find one. The world was ecstatic. The shadow of Shinra had been lifted, and Meteor had been destroyed. What more could people want?

She felt disconnected from life, being so unhappy while the world danced and sang. She had told Cid that life wasn't like a fairy tale. Those words had worked both ways. She wasn't getting the fairy tale ending either. She had never even stood a chance. After all, she hadn't been the one to go off and play hero when the world was in danger. She had just sat and waited, a face among the millions who did the same thing in letting others fight for them.

She was still harbouring a deep resentment towards what had happened in the Rocket. Cid had been lying there, injured, the Rocket flying him towards death, and she had been there to save his life and live his dream with him, and all he had managed to say was that he was sorry. If it takes a catalyst for a man like him to admit that he loved someone, then such an incident should have qualified.

The way it had worked out had been all backwards. The catalyst hadn't been an eye-opener for Cid, it had been an eye-opener for her. It had taken such a close brush with death for her to realize she didn't love him. It was a hard thing to admit, but she had come to realize that it was a memory she had loved. The memory of Cid Highwind as a twenty-two year old pilot, walking into the Space Program meetings for the first time, full of self-confidence and pride.

After seeing his dreams crushed and the world slowly forgetting about him, he had become bitter and angry, so Shera had devoted her life to seeing that he was comfortable in his, no matter how many bad turns it took.

It was time for her to be the selfish one. It wasn't fair for one person to live their entire lives devoted to another, practically enslaved to them. And yet, despite all her anger, she already found herself missing him, the smell of stale cigarettes, the harsh voice, all those vices that so many people find repulsive she had just accepted as those thing that made him who he was.

The question was, what was to become of her? She needed a job, she needed money. Neither one of those things should be too hard to find in a world seeing true daylight for the first time in decades. But she needed more than those material satisfactions. She needed to regain her pride, something she had lost years ago.

The destination she had in mind was Junon, though she feared going to such a big city would cause her to just become another lost face in the crowd. It was a role she was tired of. Looking at the small homes peeking out from the trees in front of her truck made her wonder if she should just settle for a small town like this, where she could become someone prominent...

Or would that be taking the easy way out? She worried that the pride taken from such small-town prominence would just be an illusion like her love for Cid had been. No, Junon was the answer. For better or for worse, that was where she had to go. That had been where she had met Cid, and that had been where she had left her self-worth. It made sense to go there to try and find it again.

She stood up, and made a vain attempt to brush the mud off her back, before getting into the back seat of the truck and lying down as comfortably as she could in the cramped space. She knew that she was out of the world's sights as long as she lay there. It was her time, her space.

Change was a frightening thing, and it was something that she had come dangerously close to forgetting completely. Still, thinking of the shattered look on Cid's face was bringing tears to her eyes. She finally just broke down and let herself cry openly, hidden away in the back of the vehicle, before finally drifting off and sleeping away the day.

**North End Namedi, 7 days after Meteor**

Just the sight of the door was bringing back a flood of memories, none of them clear, and none of them pleasant. 768 Agricola Street. The house was nothing more than a shack, held up by some rotten wood and a little luck. The grass on the front lawn was dying, the lone tree grey and leafless. The entire neighbourhood was too close to the Namedi Mako Reactor, but Cid remembered the time before that reactor was built, and things hadn't been any better.

The houses on the street were all in varying states of disrepair, the owners all having long since lost the will to keep up appearances. They knew the truth. People only lived in the North End of Namedi when the rest of the city had rejected them. No money, no dignity. He had spent his entire life trying to escape, and now heartbreak and whiskey had brought him back to where he had started.

Why had he gone there? The stupor was making it so hard to concentrate... All he could do was knock on the door and test his assumption that nothing ever changed. So he knocked, and he waited.

The door swung open wide, followed immediately by an angry voice shouting, "What the fuck are you doin' here this time o' night!?"

The anger of the man standing in the doorway gave way to complete shock when he saw who standing outside his home. He was a short, greasy looking man, with thin grey hair combed in a feeble attempt to hide his baldness. Wearing a beater-shirt covered with various stains and a pair of boxer shorts that didn't look any cleaner, all matching his gaunt face and empty eyes. The man looked to be the quintessential scum that would end up living out his miserable years in a place like the North End of Namedi.

"Cid?" he asked in astonishment.

"Dad," Cid said, with no emotion whatsoever. This was not the happy reunion of an estranged father and son. This was a bitter man confronting his deadbeat father for the first time in well over a decade.

After the shock faded away from the old man's face, the anger quickly returned.

"So, come back to rub it all in your old man's face, huh? Oh, you're some big fuckin' hero, and I'm some shitfaced bastard living in a cave!? Well, I don't wanna hear it boy, so get off my lawn and go fuck yourself."

The alcohol had shifted gears on Cid. He now felt vaguely nauseous, and he wasn't entirely certain how it was he had wound up on the front step of the house he had grown up in. Resting his hand against the doorframe for support, Cid looked his father right in the eye as he swayed on the spot.

"I want to hear you apologize, old man," he said. "Just once, I want to hear you admit what a prick you are."

An ugly vein suddenly popped out of Cid's father's forehead, his liquid blue eyes laced with flame. "Me! I'm not the asshole you walked around like he was better than this place! Lemme tell you somethin' boy, no fuckin' twelve year old kid in the world knows better then his old man. You don't know shit!"

Cid let go of the door and tried valiantly to stand at his full height. "Look around, Reg!" he shouted, gesturing wildly at the street behind him. "I am better than this place! You just never wanted me to think it, 'cause it meant that I was better than you!"

Reg Highwind's face darkened. "It's that kinda shit talk that drove your mother away, boy," he spat.

Cid suddenly reached out and grabbed his father's wrist, pulling him closer and looking at his arm. The tracks were visible on the inside of his elbow, nasty red scars traveling down the length of his arm from years of tearing at his skin out of desperation and sick habit.

"Still at it, huh? Well fuck you, Reg. You want to know why she left? Look at what I'm seein' right now."

"Don't touch me!" Reg shouted, pulling his arm back viciously, and raising the other on as if to hit Cid.

"What are ya gonna do, huh?"' Cid taunted. "You gonna hit me? Go ahead! I'm too drunk to feel it!"

Reg lowered his fist, and look slightly sheepish for a moment, but it passed quickly. "I wasn't a bad father, Cid," he said darkly. "I gave you food, I gave you a roof. It's all I ever had to give you, and I did. So what the fuck are you complainin' about?"

"That's bullshit! You wanted me to be stuck here like you were! So you'd always have someone to push around! But I never let you push me around, did I?"

"Get away from my house!" Reg shouted. "You never wanted to be here in the first place, so why the fuck're ya here now!?" He tried to slam the door in Cid's face, but Cid stuck his foot in the way out of pure instinct. He gave the door a violent shove, sending Reg stumbling backwards into the house. The anger was running strong than any drunkenness or nausea ever could. Everything in Cid's vision seemed to be tinted with red. He stepped inside the door, taking in the familiar surroundings, the peeling paint, the furniture covered in stains and burns, the threadbare carpeting, the cracked front window...

"Get outta my house, or I'll call the fuckin' cops!" Reg shouted, a note of panic suddenly entering his voice.

"Fine," Cid said. "Call 'em. You don't even have a fuckin' phone."

Reg backed up against one of the walls, as Cid advanced on him, looking around nervously for something to defend himself with. There was a little voice in Cid's head telling him that he should just leave now, before something terrible and irreversible happened, but the roar of fury was drowning it out.

He was standing only inches away from his father, the stench of booze coming from their breaths mingling together.

"You're a good father, huh? Number one Dad, right!?" Cid's voice was actually cracking in anger, an extreme rarity and a clear sign that danger was heavy in the room. He put one hand against the wall beside his father's head as the sudden urge to give up on consciousness hit him. Shaking his head in a vain attempt to clear it, he looked his father right in the eye, putting his face so close that their noses were almost touching.

"What kind of father sticks his kid with the fuckin' needle?" he spat. "The number one Dad? Answer me!"

Reg's breaths were a little ragged as he spoke. "I was tryin' to show you how to deal with life, boy! It's the only way..." His words were cut short as Cid reached out with his free hand and grabbed his father by the throat. Reg's eye widened in fear as his air was suddenly cut off, and the blood began pounding in his head.

"Just admit you're a fucking bastard, old man! Admit it!"

Reg shook his head, unable to get any words around Cid's iron grip. His face was beginning to turn a deep shade of red, more veins popping out of his head as he tried to push Cid away.

The room was spinning in Cid's eyes. This wasn't reality... this was just a nightmare... he had been having a lot of them while sleeping at that drab little inn...

He blinked and loosened his grip on Reg's throat, suddenly realizing where he was and the harsh reality of the situation. He let go, and his father slid down the wall until he was crouched on the floor, rubbing his neck and gasping for air.

"If... if that was switched around... you'd be dead..." he gasped. "You know that, right?"

Cid looked down at the old man wheezing on the floor with pure contempt on his face. "That's the difference between me and you, Reg," he said, before turning his back and walking out of the house, making a silent vow to never return there again.

After walking a few blocks, the whole incident became cloudy. Had that actually happened? The whiskey was really catching up with him. He stumbled and fell to the pavement.

"Goddammit!" he shouted into the dirt, raising his fist and bringing it down hard against the ground. He stood back up and stared at his bleeding knuckles. He didn't need this. He was better than this place. He had gotten away. Nothing would ever change that.

* * *

**Author's Pointless Monologue:** Oh the pain of it all! It's not always going to be like this... Reg Highwind was not in the first version of the story, though he was part of my mental background for Cid. He's a real bastard, isn't he? I hope people might notice the irony of some of Yuffie's comments about Cid in chapter 2 after reading this... I actually didn't do that on purpose, but I noticed it when I ineffectively combed through both chapters for typos. This isn't a bad chapter, certainly better than the first two... I thought Shera's little segment was actually pretty good, which is more credit than I usually give myself...

I was intentionally scant on the details in the first version, because most of the more popular fics seem to have short chapters, and are not overly elaborate when it comes to the thoughts of the characters. I was worried that writing it this way would make it boring. Personally, I think it's much better, but I'm pretty biased... I treating like a novel, and easing into things.

Coming up next, we'll have the Turks. (It takes me longer to write chapters that are 18 pages long, so don't be expecting me to update as frequently as I used to) No, I didn't forget about them, I love them as much as you... Well, probably not as much as all of you, there's some unnatural love floating around out there...


End file.
